(Shaking his finger playfully at her.)
No fancy cakes now!
Duchess.
There are none in my house, not even to-night.
I may not be clever, but I can see
the obvious as well as most people, and it is
glaringly obvious that anyone whose hands
are steady enough to decorate foodstuffs can
handle tools of more use to the country.
(To Maid by curtains.) Go and fetch
some hot coffee at once. I will stay by
the curtains while you are gone. Don’t
say one word to anyone, mind!
(She goes out quickly through door right.
Meanwhile Smithers systematically
searches all Varlie’s pockets. He finds a
revolver, which he lays out with an accusing
look.)
Smithers.
That don’t look like a clergyman, sir!
Varlie.
All Americans have those little pets on
them. In the backwoods I have had to
have it cocked on to my congregation so as
to hold their attention!
(Meanwhile Loveday is quite quietly and
unobtrusively looking round the corner,
front right, where Varlie had been
standing before his arrest. The coffee
comes in, the Minister drinks it, the
Duchess returns from the curtains and
the Maid takes up her place there again.)
Minister.
This is very painful, my dear, very painful.
I’m sure I don’t know what to think.
Duchess.
We must wait and see.
Varlie.
Waal, Duchess, in a time like the present
I quite understand your young girls getting
hysterical. Don’t let my position make
you feel bad. I bear no malice. It is my
duty and my pleasure to turn the other
cheek!
(Loveday stands gazing curiously at the palm,
down right, near where Varlie was. The
smooth green moss is broken through in one
place, and rough earth shows.)
Smithers.
(Rising.) There is no jade ornament too
large for him to swallow on him that I can
see.
Varlie.
Naturally! It grieves me that you should
be so inured to deception, young man,
that you should doubt my word.
Minister.
There, there. It was all a fancy. But
you and I and the Duchess can forgive a
pretty girl more than this, can’t we, Mr.,
Mr.——
Varlie.
Dr. Chapman, sir. Now your myrmidons
can unhand me, I reckon.
(Smithers hesitates to give the order.)
Loveday.
Don’t! It’s not settled. Look at this.
(Smithers comes forward and looks at pot as
she indicates.)
Smithers.
I see nothing there, Miss.
Loveday.
The earth has been disturbed here—look,
the rest of the pot is covered with moss.
Duchess.
Oh, Loveday, Loveday. The gardener
has pulled up a weed, I suppose. Pulling
up weeds always does disturb the moss.
Even the Government knows that.
Loveday.
Gordon, Mr. Smithers—haven’t you a
penknife one of you? Dig just there for
me, please do.
Varlie.
(Gets suddenly restive in his keepers’
hands.) This is the limit! This beats
everything. She put it there herself.
Smithers.
(Looking at him keenly.) Put it there?
You said there wasn’t anything just now.
Varlie.
I have had enough of this. (To the two
holding him.) Let me go, you monkey-faced
jumbos. (To Smithers.) I’m
due at our Embassy. You can do your
agricultural work as well when I’ve gone.
Smithers.
(Now suspicious of him.) We’ll just see
first if there is anything in this plant.
Varlie.
She did it herself. She simply put something
in herself!
Loveday.
(Spreading out her hands.) Look! I’ve
got white kid gloves on! I couldn’t have
done it without leaving earth on them!
and there isn’t a grain!
Minister.
(Leans forward intently interested.) She
is a bright girl that. I call that clever.
Duchess.
Clever, yes. But not witty! She lost an
opportunity of saying, “I have the proof
at my finger tips.”
Minister.
(Chuckling.) No case! The white gloves
of a Judge on circuit!
Duchess.
Good! Ha, ha!
Loveday.
Look at his hands. Look!
(Varlie closes his hands [which are gloveless]
and clenches his nails in.)
Varlie.
By gum, you don’t insult me like this!
Smithers.
Please open your hands, sir.
Varlie.
I won’t, damn you.
Smithers.
You had better, sir.
Varlie.
I dropped a coin in a flower bed this
afternoon! I have some earth in my nails
anyway. (He half opens his hands
reluctantly.)
(All lean forward to see. Two fingers are
stained and there is earth in two or three of
the nails.)
Smithers.
You’d have washed your hands if what
you say about dropping a coin is true before
coming here, sir. Hold him well, men.
Yes, Miss. I’ll dig this pot up for you.
(He digs with his penknife, all wait breathlessly,
in a minute the green jade ornament appears.
He wipes it with his handkerchief, holds it
out to Loveday.)
Smithers.
Is that it, Miss.
Loveday.
(Eager.) Yes, yes, that is it!
Minister. Duchess.
(Coming forward to look at it.) Dear, dear! Fancy! I said Loveday wasn’t hysterical.
Smithers.
That looks as though the young lady was
right. You’ve had a narrow escape, sir!
Varlie.
That don’t amount to shucks! What
does that prove. There is only wild talk.
I tell you I’m known at the American
Embassy, I’m known to the Duchess here.
You can’t begin to prove I ever saw that
green trumpery. The only thing you’ve
got against me is that I wore a false beard!
(Sneers.) Bring that up against an
American citizen and a minister of religion
and you would look queer in the Law
Courts!
Loveday.
And you are known to me—to us. To
both Mr. Hyde and me. You were Mr.
Varlie in New Zealand.
Gordon.
Yes, Varlie, there’s no mistaking you!
You bought the freehold of my Station and
all my sheep and I’m not likely to forget
it.
Loveday.
And you travelled all over New Zealand,
selling things under the name of Varlie,
and you wouldn’t be pretending to be
somebody else and a clergyman too, if you
were honest. Besides (scornfully), I saw
you buy that special secret poison from
Roto, the old Maori, and you made very
special enquiries about its use, too!
Smithers.
(As though recollecting something.)
Varlie—Varlie—New Zealand. The
secret service particular warned me against
a man called Varlie who has been hauling
in a lot of freehold in New Zealand under
various names, and travelling for German
American firms. We had lost track of
him. (Joy spreading over his face.) You
don’t mean to say he is John Varlie! Not
John Varlie, Miss?
Loveday.
Yes, yes.
Gordon.
That’s the name I’ve known him under in
New Zealand for months.
Smithers.
My, men! We have got a haul. Well,
ladies, the man is safe now, anyway.
There is no need to bother you any more
to-night.
Duchess.
Cleverness seems to get an appropriately
solid result, Loveday?
Smithers.
You are staying here, Miss? No? Your
address, please.
(He takes out a note book, she tells her address
[a mumble and dumb show].)
And yours, sir? (Gordon does the same.)
(Meanwhile the Minister looks from one to the
other, turns to Duchess.)
Minister.
He is evidently really a dangerous man!
But a clergyman too! What an outrage
to the cloth. That’s the kind of thing to
make atheists.
Smithers.
(Snapping his note book and turning
quickly.) He is no clergyman. A very
dangerous man, sir. It is all a pretence
too about his being an American. He is
an out and out German, sir, and I make no
doubt the young lady was right about his
attempt on your life, sir. I expect you
have had a narrow escape. We won’t
trouble you any further to-night. Take
him off, men. I’ve got all the addresses.
Good-night, ladies—good-night, sir, good-night,
sir. (Goes out after Varlie, led
by the men, unresisting now.)
(Loveday and Gordon look at each other.
Duchess subsides into sofa by the
Minister.)
Duchess.
As I said, even London is an adventure for
the right man. (Fans herself.) Loveday,
come here.
Minister.
(Rises and shakes her hand, keeps it and
pats it.) My dear young lady, my dear
young lady. The service you have done
me is too great for thanks. You may
command me—always. And I hope I
may often have the happiness of serving
you. But please give me something to do
at once. What can I do for you?
Loveday.
Oh, there is one thing you can do for me,
if only you will! Will you!
Minister.
An-y-thing you like to ask, my dear, if it
is humanly possible. What is it?
Loveday.
Please, oh please, let Mr. Hyde tell you
about his wonderful International plan.
Minister.
Of course, of course! So he is a friend
of yours, is he?
Gordon.
(Coming forward.) I have that great
honour, sir.
Gordon.
(Takes out sheaf of papers.) If there
was a Super-Parliament constituted as I
suggest Prussian Militarism, all Militarism,
is not only defeated now, but for ever!
It is plucked out by the roots, but not at
the ruinous cost of imposing militarism on
all other nations. Oh, there’s so much.
(Hesitates.)
Loveday.
(Breaking in, her voice almost chanting,
like one inspired, its notes resembling
those used by her at the close of Act I.)
And Militarism is met, not by the weakness
of a too trusting idealism but by force
controlled by intelligence. Law is devised
with behind it international force, which
shall protect the nations, as law backed by
civil force protects each man and woman
in Britain.
(Hyde starts, gazing intently at her set inspired
face and seems to recognise her voice. He
stretches out a hand, withdraws it, and
whispers in awed voice.)
Hyde.
My queen! My vision. It is she! (Sits
as though entranced.)
Loveday.
(Does not notice him, but continues uninterruptedly.)
And the nation which
will not come into this council of nations
proclaims itself an outlaw, an aggressor, a
planner of evil, and it inscribes its own
doom, for law that is outraged takes
vengeance implacable.
(There is a pause, she relaxes—smiles.)
Minister.
My dear—I must think.
Loveday.
(Holding out her hands to him appealingly.)
You are the most powerful man
in England, it is for you to initiate this
new era, of international safety and peace.
Whatever the terms of an ordinary
peace, militarism will spring up again to
ravage the world. Let Britain lead in
this new enlargement of law and freedom,
for this is the only way to bring security
to the world.
Minister.
(Very seriously.) I will think about it,
my dear.
Duchess.
(Returning to her normal.) If that is
cleverness it makes me a little dissatisfied
with mere wit.
Minister.
(To Hyde.) Have your suggested constitution
typed out, young man, and bring
it to Downing Street the day after to-morrow.
I’ll send you a card with the
hour. Your address? (Hyde hands
him a card.) I’ll try to get the Prime
Minister interested. Good-night.
Loveday.
How splendid.
Minister.
Good-night, my dear, good-night. If you
leave it very long before I see you again,
I’ll have to send for you. Heaven guard
you, my dear.
(To Duchess.) I must say good-night.
I have long outstayed my time.
Duchess.
Let me see you off my premises. I only
pray there are no more adventures for
you on them. I hope exterminated
dangers leave rest behind them. (They
go off back centre together, the Footman
pulls curtain apart to let them
out and follows them. Faint strains of
music are heard from distant room.)
Loveday.
(Sits on sofa, looks at Gordon with a
rapt gaze.) Your chance, the world’s
chance, has come!
Gordon.
(In awe-struck voice, tenderly. He stands
half stooping before her.) And you, you
are not only my friend but my Goddess,
my vision! Your look just now—your
wonderful voice when you were speaking
to the Minister a little ago. It was you
that night in the woods—you I have been
adoring, and from you I have been
drawing my inspiration!
Loveday.
(Softly.) It was I in the woods. Chance
gave me a moment’s inspiration! which
you worked into reality.
Gordon.
(Half kneels before her.) I know my
love can be nothing at all to you—I am
not a fit mate for you. But let me go on
kneeling to you! Don’t spurn me.
Loveday.
(Slowly.) Why are you so sure your love
is nothing to me?
Gordon.
(As though blinded by a sudden shaft of
light in the darkness.) Oh! It can’t be
that it is anything to you?
Loveday.
Your love is everything to me.
(Slowly he advances, with almost incredulous rapture. They kiss.)
BY THE SAME AUTHOR.
PLAYS OF OLD JAPAN: THE “NŌ”
By MARIE C. STOPES and
PROFESSOR JOJI SAKURAI
PREFACE by BARON KATO
The Times says: “The Sumida River is a little play which, even in translation, one feels to be of great beauty and intolerable pathos. Dr. Stopes has written a lucid and serviceable introduction on the ‘Nō’ plays, which deserve the study of every student of the drama.”
The Morning Post says: “The translators have chosen a rhythmic, simple, irregular verse, which isolates just that element of pure tragedy that underlies the native literary crust of ornament.... We are convinced that drawing-room and library will welcome her to their hearts.”
T.P.’s Weekly says: “We advise all who care for the drama to read this book. The effect may be compared to that of having the best work of Synge with an added national and religious interest.”
The Spectator says: “Dr. Stopes has made the ‘Nō’ and their history for the first time accessible to the ordinary reader ... there is pleasure to be got from them even by those who only read a translation of the poems.”
The Times (New York) says: “Dr. Stopes has placed the English reader under a debt of gratitude by her work on these exquisite lyric plays.”
The Athenæum says: “The author’s vivid and imaginative sympathy has really enabled her in some degree to communicate the incommunicable.”
W. HEINEMANN. 5/- net.
MAN
OTHER POEMS & A PREFACE
BY
MARIE C. STOPES, D.Sc., Ph.D., F.R.S.L.
Fellow of University College, London.
“The title-poem, wherein is set forth with thoughtful earnestness and no little grace of language the changing aspects of man to the eyes of ripening womanhood, and ‘The Brother,’ a ‘true and unvarnished’ tragedy, deriving force from the very homeliness of its telling, stand out most clearly in a volume of which the dominating qualities are clearness of vision and a distinctive point of view.”—The Athenæum.
“Dr. Stopes is by calling a fossil botanist, and her scientific training gives restraint and substance to all her verse. This is particularly noticeable in the longish poem which opens the book, tracing the changing image which man assumes in the mind of a growing girl—a difficult theme well treated from the personal point of view, and in graceful measured phrase. But there is no lack of emotion in her pages; she sings with enthusiasm of the joy of married love; and sometimes in a minor key of regret for old, dead loves. Her highest level, we think, is reached in ‘Tokio Snow’—a beautiful fancy expressed in stanzas which have a curious but very successful rhyme-scheme, and ‘Human Love,’ an impressive moment of spiritual reflection on the theme ‘Amantium irae.’”—The Times.
W. HEINEMANN. 3/6 net.
Women’s Printing Soc., Ltd., Brick St., Piccadilly, W.1.
Transcriber's Note
The following apparent errors have been corrected:
- p. 10 "Gordon Stop" changed to "Gordon. Stop"
- p. 30 "Iv’e" changed to "I’ve"
- p. 34 "blazing" changed to "blazing.)"
- p. 42 "anquished" changed to "anguished"
- p. 51 "ingenius" changed to "ingenious"
- p. 72 "stuft" changed to "stuff"
- p. 75 "luovely" changed to "lovely"
- p. 85 "Varlie-Chapman (Calmly.)" changed to "Varlie-Chapman. (Calmly.)"
The following are used inconsistently in the text:
- now-a-days and nowadays